


Because He Never Grows Up

by SoManyFandoms



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989), House M.D.
Genre: Gen, House being nosey, House/Dead Poets Society crossover, Puck as the literal incarnation of a younger Wilson, Slight spoilers for Dead Poets Society, That last tag would make more sense if you've seen Dead Poets Society
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyFandoms/pseuds/SoManyFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House finds out about Wilson’s love of acting through Wilson’s younger self.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because He Never Grows Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written 27th February 2008. I was probably trying to get over Dead Poets Society and its happenings. No more talk cause that would evoke spoilers for those who haven't seen it. It was probably also inspired by Mystic Twilight's If We Shadows Have Offended... on YouTube, summary which is 'Wilson has a secret; one that he's kept hidden for twenty years. Even from his best friend. [House M.D./Dead Poets Society crossover]'. Unfortunately it's been blocked due to the music. Brilliant video. It must have been, cause hey, they're close. Poor Wilson.
> 
> Originally posted on fanfiction.net under the username FanFiction.net Fan. (Yep, my first place of haunting.)

It was not at all often House stopped before barging into Wilson’s office, but today was one of those times, because he heard something.

“Get back here this instant!”

House was sure whoever, or whatever, Wilson was talking to wasn’t a patient, as he was always soothing when talking to one of them. It must be a hooker.

“I knew you would finally-” That sentence was cut as House took in the office. Standing near the couch was Wilson, who was looking annoyed, sweat shining lightly on his brow. Behind Wilson’s desk, however, was someone else.

This person looked to be in their late teens by House’s guess, and was dressed in a loose brown top and pants, with the pants forming covers for the feet. What was weird was that there were sticks for hands, though House could see actual hands behind the twigs, and the other was wearing a crown of more twigs and some red berries.

“House, how many times have I told you to knock before entering?”

“Who is he?” House asked, completely ignoring the question.

“I am Robin Goodfellow”, the brown clothed teen said, springing from behind the desk, and ending up close to House. “Also known as Puck, jester of Oberon’s court, and joker of the fort.” House held up his cane to stop Puck from coming any closer, and yet the other just danced around it. As he did so, House saw an uncanny resemblance between whoever Puck was and his best friend, who was now gripping the bridge of his nose like he did whenever he was getting a headache.

House watched as Puck got close to Wilson, who suddenly leapt at the other.

“Peter Pan, get _back_ here!”

“You shall not catch me, enemy of mine. I have friends in the trees of pine!"

House was amused as he watched the chase around the desk, Puck nimbly bounding over a box near the balcony door at the edge of the desk, Wilson a little clumsier.

“I’m impressed,” House said, coming closer to inspect the struggling Puck, who was squirming in Wilson’s grasp, trying to get away. “That was a trick you learnt from me, right?” Wilson could only nod as he dragged Puck to the box, which he had accidentally kicked more into the open on one of the laps, causing him to stumble.

“I don’t want to go back in there! Please, let me stay out, please…” This broke into sobs, and Wilson again glimpsed that cold, snowy night in the study, but pushed the memory away.

“Later, you can come out,” was all Wilson said, as he lowered the other into the box. When the lid had been replaced, House started.

“Who was that?” Wilson sighed as he pushed the box behind his desk, and with a bit of work, got it into the cupboard.

“Have I ever told you of the time I was in the play _A Midsummer Nights Dream_ , when I went to Welton Academy?”

“So, that was you, when you were younger? Why did you call him Peter Pan?” Wilson was again amazed at how quickly House could gather something, because he was sure House had never seen the play, and never would, because it had fairies in it.

“Because he never grows up.” House ruffled Wilson’s hair with a grin.

“You looked so much like you do now. Eight tonight. Bring Chinese.” Then House was gone, sure that he must be dreaming because he didn’t believe in magic. It was going to be a good night finding out about Wilson and his unknown like of acting. 

Back in the office, Wilson wiped a tear from his eye, and resolved to let his younger self out more, to experience the joy of being someone else beside himself, where Puck didn’t have to worry about anything but being Puck.

 


End file.
